What is love?
Love is. . . Even he couldn't explain that. It would be impossible. He had grown up alone, helpless, without a shoulder to lean on.
Yes. . . He had no one.
Kakuzu looked over at his partner, making sure he was asleep. The light snore was heard not a few seconds after. Hidan was defenetly out. Sighing, Kakuzu drew out his briefcase from inside his cloack and proceeded to unlock it, a thin strip of thread slowly shifting the gears. It clicked open, and the half masked man stared at it's contents. A few million yen carefully organized at one half of the area. On the other side, a note book filled with mindless money calculations. Underneath that, a photograph.
Yes, the masked man knew nothing of love. His heart had been broken by this woman, the one that stood smiling at him in the inked paper. She was long gone now. She went missing a few days after she had turned him down.
She had turned him down, but he knew that he would always have her heart. Inside him, one of the five hearts pulse quickened.
Kakuzu knew nothing of love.